She padded down the hall, too uneasy to go immediately back to sleep. Specter followed, always willing to indulge in a midnight snack.
“That dream was all I needed on top of finding those dead weeds in my vase today,“ Diana confided as she rummaged around in the refrigerator. She hadn’t been this shaken by a dream in a long while. “What with dreams and weeds and worrying about being pregnant, I’ll be lucky to get back to sleep tonight.“
The cottage seemed chilled and far too quiet to her disturbed senses. She was very glad Specter was there in the kitchen with her. Diana was used to being alone but there were times when it would be nice to have a man around.
It was the dream again. More intense than ever. Probably because he’d spent the other night in Chained Lady Cave.
Was he going to have this dream off and on for the rest of his life?
He stood at the downstairs window listening to the stillness of the house, and his mind drifted back to all the long nights he had spent here as a child. They were usually nights spent imagining the worst things that could happen to him.
Outside in the darkness, deep shadows pooled among the trees. Colby watched them for a while. Why had he come back here to this town? Why couldn’t he shake the feeling that there was something here in Fulbrook Corners that remained unfinished? Maybe he was just realizing the simple psychological fact that the past was always part of the future.
Colby sighed. It was more than that. He had been drawn back here by a vague feeling of incompleteness. There was something here that needed to be done before he could really be free of Fulbrook Corners.
He swore under his breath. He wanted to see Diana. He needed her tonight. The cave dream was getting to him.
Colby turned away from the window, scrawled a brief note on a piece of paper and dropped the paper on the kitchen table. He’d probably be home before dawn.
Then again, he might not.
He decided to walk to Diana’s. If he took the Jeep, he’d probably waken Brandon and Robyn.
Ten minutes later, he saw the light glowing from Diana’s kitchen window and wondered at it. He quickened his pace and was on the first porch step when Specter’s sharp bark sounded from within.
“It’s me, Diana,“ he called reassuringly as he pounded on the door. “Call off your damned dog.“
He heard her soothing Specter, and a moment later she unlocked the front door. He looked down at her, thinking she looked warm and familiar and altogether wonderful.
“What are you doing up at this time of night?“ he asked, stepping into the hall.
“I was about to ask you the same question. Good grief, Colby, it’s nearly two in the morning. What are you doing running around like this in the middle of the night?“
“Couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d take a walk and I saw your light on.“ He shrugged out of the leather jacket he’d slung on before leaving the house. “No, that’s not quite accurate. The truth is, I thought I’d take a walk and see if by any chance you’d open your door to me at two in the morning.“ He dropped the jacket on the hall table, pulled her close and kissed her heavily.
She looked up at him when he lifted his head. Her eyes were wide, her gaze surprisingly vulnerable. “To tell you the truth,“ Diana said softly, “I’m glad you came by.“
He held her tightly for a long moment. “Rough day, huh? Those weeds really upset you, didn’t they?“
“Yes.“
“I promise you I’ll find out who put them there, honey. And when I do, whoever did it will be eating small rocks off the pavement. Come on. Let’s go into the kitchen and pour ourselves a medicinal glass of brandy.“
“I just made some hot chocolate.“
“That sounds even better.“
They picked up their mugs and headed for the living room. Diana sat down beside him on the old couch, curling her legs under her. Specter lounged nearby, watchful as always, but apparently resigned to the fact that Colby had exerted his right to be here at this hour.
“Are horror writers subject to a lot of sleepless nights?“ Diana asked as she sipped her hot chocolate.
Colby smiled faintly. “No, not really. At least I’m not. Not any more, at any rate. I used to lie awake a lot at night when I was a kid.“
“Dreaming up stories?“
“Fighting monsters that hid in the closet. I’d imagine the most horrendous monster I could, and then I wouldn’t be able to go to sleep until I’d also imagined how to destroy it.“
“Sounds like a way of dealing with the trauma of your childhood.“
She made the observation with such sweet, grave seriousness that Colby chuckled. “Don’t tell me you’re an amateur psychologist as well as a first-rate business executive.“
She gave him a fleeting little smile. “Well, whatever the reason for inventing monsters, it’s certainly stood you in good stead. When did you first start writing, Colby?“
“When Brandon started school, I went back, too, part-time. I enrolled in a local community college and, among other things, I wound up taking some writing classes. One of my teachers encouraged me to submit a couple of short stories, so I did. Nothing sold but I was hooked. I decided I wanted to write a book.“
“Did you start off with horror?“
He shook his head, remembering the long, lean years. “No, I did a lot of men’s action adventure stuff under a variety of names. Not much money in it, but eventually I worked it up to the point where I was earning almost as much writing as I was working in construction. That’s when I quit and started writing full-time. That’s also when I branched out into the horror market and started using my own name.“
“A long, hard road.“
His mouth curved reminiscently. “I was rather nervous the day I told my foreman I was quitting construction. I was sure that as soon as I gave up my real job, I’d stop selling books and then what would I do? After all, I had a responsibility to Brandon. But I took a chance, and I got lucky.“
“Sometimes we have to make that kind of decision.“
He sprawled back into the corner of the couch, pulling her with him. “Speaking of decisions, I get the impression Brandon is definitely pulling back from marriage. I owe you one for the advice you gave me, honey.“
“Forget it. I hope they both come to realize marriage probably isn’t the best thing for either of them at this age.
From Robyn’s point of view, especially, I think it would be a mistake.“